


Pretty Good Odds

by Poemsingreenink



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: ...or am i just making a pun, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poemsingreenink/pseuds/Poemsingreenink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Michaela’s apartment building burns down she makes a call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Good Odds

To her credit, Michaela didn't start crying until the wind shifted and she got smacked with a face full of ash. It stung her eyes, filled her mouth, and for a horrible moment she was convinced that a tiny bright ember was even singeing its way up her nasal cavity.

"Michaela, come on they're telling us to move further away."

Michaela was a little too busy fisting the mess of tears and dirt from of her eyes to listen, but she followed when two hands gently took her by the shoulders and led her away from her burning apartment building. 

Michaela had finished her study guide for torts that Wednesday. It was a fifty page, finely detailed, color coded, posted noted masterpiece that half her class would have shaved their own eyebrows off to possess. It was nothing but ashes now, and with her luck those were some of the ashes that had just assaulted her face. 

"There's a curb right here. Just take one step more and-okay good. Sit here and hold your hands out."

She blamed the temporary blindness on her complacency, but she didn't complain or argue just gritted her teeth and shoved her hands forward. Luke warm water drenched them, and then something solid and wet was draped over them. 

"You can clean your face off with that. It's a bandana."

Michaela sniffled, but tipped her head back and squeezed the cloth until water ran over her face, pooled into her eyes, and ran down her cheeks. She gave her whole face a pat before she lowered the cloth, and got her first clear look at Laurel. Laurel who was, as usual, infuriatingly calm in the face of Michaela's crumbling world.

There were a fair amount of flashing lights around them, ambulances, firefighters, and police officers, and she knew if she turned around she'd see what was left of the fire that was engulfing her home. 

"I thought I called, Connor," Michaela said, with another sniff.

Laurel handed her the half-empty bottle of water. "I don't know who you tried to call, but I'm the one who got you freaking out on the other end of the line at two in the morning." 

Michaela took a long pull off the bottle. "You didn't have to come."

Laurel shrugged. "I was up anyway. Did you run out with the fire alarm or did a large firefighter have to break down your door with an axe and throw you over his shoulder?"

Michaela snorted. "The first one."

Laurel _hmmmed_ thoughtfully. "When you tell this story to out torts professor, tell him it was the second one."

"Then I’m going to have to say I was thrown over her shoulder," Michaela said, nodding back to where a group of women were spraying water into the slowly dying blaze. 

"You're kidding," Laurel said. She craned her neck to get a better look at the firefighters. "Wow. What are the odds?”

"I probably shouldn't change out of my clothes either," Michaela motioned to the yoga pants, and tank top she'd been late night cramming in. They reeked of sweat and smoke. The memory of the knit lilac dress she'd set out for the day flooded her mind, and she bit her lip hard to keep from sobbing. "Not that there's anything to change into."

Laurel's hand was suddenly entwined in hers. It certainly said something about them that at this point Michaela didn't turn away from the comfort. She just pressed her face against the other woman's shoulder. 

"I just replaced all my pillow cases," she said, her voice thick. 

"It's okay," Laurel said, softly. 

She stayed there until she was sure she wasn't going to burst into tears again, and then lifted her head. 

Laurel stood up and then offered her a hand. "Come on. Let's get pancakes, and we'll strategize. There's no way we can't guilt Professor Wilkes into rescheduling our exams."

" _Our_?"

Laurel raised her eyebrows, but didn't let go of Michaela's hand. "I literally just sprinted across town in my pajamas because I thought you were on fire. I'm way too stressed out to concentrate on torts."

Michaela stood.

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be more of this.


End file.
